


you are an endless summer

by forcynics



Series: holiday fic 2011 [6]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-08
Updated: 2011-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-24 04:29:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6141525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forcynics/pseuds/forcynics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's one of those drowsy mornings, and Caroline would much rather talk about what it's like to live for 150 years than get out of bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you are an endless summer

 

 

 

The sun hovers in the sky outside the window but its warmth has slowly begun to permeate the bedroom, and the light it sheds through the window swirls up dust motes while Caroline watches idly. She pulls the sheets up to her chin with a little tug, despite Stefan’s muffled noise of protest, and curls her legs close to her.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” she starts, her voice odd from sleep, and she yawns. “You could tell me things,” she continues, and turns her head over, leans it back into the pillow. Stefan’s face is buried in his pillow, but he tilts it upward, opens his eyes slowly and makes a small hum to indicate he’s listening.

“Not like, deep dark secret things.” She pulls a face, and pushes some stray hair behind her ear, then rolls over properly to face him, her knees brushing his. “Like... life things, you know? I mean, I think about it a lot, what it’s gonna be like, but you’ve kinda got a lot more... experience.”

He snorts, and then his mouth curls into a smile, and he half-closes his eyes. “You wanna know what it’s like to live for a century and a half?”

“Yeah,” she says after a second. “Not the vampire stuff, but like... I don’t know, is it true that you miss your twenties the most or does not count for us?” Stefan makes a sound like he’s holding back a laugh and she rolls her eyes and breezes on. “Are you high school years... or whatever school you had, or just teenage years – are they really the best years of your life? Do you really feel _wise_ when you get older, ‘cause wisdom comes with age and all that—I mean, really, you’re 164 and I’m 19—”

Stefan does laugh now, though it turns into a groan, and he pushes himself up on his side, raises an eyebrow at her. “You know I usually try not to think of it like that,” he teases, and she purses her lips, holds back her own grin.

“But you can give me tips!” she insists, lifting her head and widening her eyes imploringly. “You can be... I don’t know, my cheat sheet to life.”

It’s a joke, sort of, but Stefan looks surprisingly pensive. He shifts himself closer to her, and she feels his hand on her thigh underneath the blankets, absentmindedly rubbing gently, unusually warm. “Caroline—” he starts to say, but then he bites his lip, and he stares at her with an intensity she can’t quite place before a small smile unfurls on his face.

“Okay,” he agrees suddenly, and she blinks, and then grins.

“Really?” She shifts closer too, lets her head fall back onto the pillow, or rather the junction between the two pillows.

Stefan nods. “My twenties weren’t so great. I was still dealing with this new life, but you—you’re already dealing pretty well, so yours will probably be awesome.” A small slip of a grin there. “But all the things people like about their twenties, the freedom, not being tied down, the partying or drinking or doing whatever as they please,” he makes a continuous gesture with his free hand, “and looking young, never aging – well, all that we get to keep forever. The charm of it wears off every now and then – sometimes I used to wish I _was_ old, but I guess that’s 'cause we’re really not, we’re trapped in a kind of limbo.”

She lets his words settle in, tries to imagine it. On the one hand, it sounds marvelous, the age-old dream of eternal youth. Does getting old even count for them? The idea that it doesn’t, that they’re in _limbo_ , is kind of freaky to try to imagine, but she figures that maybe it’ll make more sense with age, holds back a snort at the irony.

“I’ve never thought school years were the best,” Stefan continues. “That’s just... too depressing to imagine it all going downhill from there. And as for wisdom?” He chuckles, and trails his hand up her side, rubs a circle into her forearm with his thumb. “I don’t know, Caroline. Sometimes I think so, sometimes I do think that I’ve grown wiser than I used to be. And then later, I look back at myself and think that's proof right there I really haven’t at all.”

She smiles, half a smirk. “I think you’re wise enough, Stefan Salvatore,” she teases slowly, though it’s genuine, how grateful she is for such tips.

“Oh yeah?”

She giggles softly, and nods. “Yep.” Stretching out her legs, she brushes her toe against his leg and curls closer to him reflexively.

“Well, I think you could tell me things too, you know,” he declares, something challenging in his voice that makes her raise an eyebrow.

“Like... what’s it like growing up in Mystic Falls in the twenty-first century, or just... any of it, what’s it like actually being—” he pauses, wets his lips. “Normal. You remember better than I do.”

Caroline’s lips part; she feels struck by the shift of conversation, the shift of tone, and reaches a hand to his face lightly, sweeps her thumb over his cheekbone and wriggles her body closer to his.

“Normal is... nice,” she says a second later. “Easier, in a lot of ways. You worry about school and grades and college and your future. Everything is so... set out – like you already know what all your biggest milestones are going to be, it’s just a matter of getting to them.”

Stefan nods, the slightest of wrinkles formed at the dip between his narrowed eyes.

“Normal’s nice,” she repeats, “but... I think we could still have things a lot worse than we do?” She offers a smile at that, and is happy to see it returned.

Stefan laughs, and leans his face close to hers, presses a soft kiss to her mouth, and when he pulls back, he tangles a curl of her hair around his finger.

“That is _very_ true,” he murmurs, and she is smiling when she kisses him, leaning over him as he slowly rolls onto his back, one hand curving tight around her hip and pulling her with him. She makes a low hum of approval, lets her fingers splay over his skin and brush the edges of his boxers as his fingers curl under the hem of her tank top.

There is warmth in the air and warmth in their skin, a drowsy haze wrapped around them both, and Caroline decides that today is a perfect day for never leaving their bed.

And when she tells Stefan that with a hushed giggle, he agrees.

 

 

 


End file.
